I’ve seen like six people on my dash do this but I never saw an original post about it so: send me a ship and a prompt and I’ll write a ficlet pls!
Tommy/buck
Accidentally falling asleep
Here’s 1k words of fluffy softness from Tommy’s pov (this why Buck’s called ‘Evan’ throughout). Enjoy!
After three dates, Evan and Tommy start spending more time together than just a few hours here and there at dinner or out hiking or something. Now that they’re past the initial awkwardness and urge to impress to make sure the other really likes them, they end up spending their entire days together when they happen to have days off at the same time.
Today, Tommy shows up at Evan’s loft at 10AM with coffee and breakfast from a little cafe near his apartment that Evan loves but doesn’t go to very often. They have vegan breakfast sandwiches that are absolutely to die for, apparently, so Tommy got two because Evan can be particularly ravenous in the mornings. He knocks on the door and it only takes a moment for his boyfriend (boyfriend) to appear in front of him, hair wild and curly, totally free of product He’s wearing grey sweatpants (fucking hell) and a dark blue hoodie that Tommy is pretty sure went missing from his own apartment a few days ago. He has pillow marks lining his face and his eyes are only half-open as he smiles lazily at him.
Tommy’s heart swoops in his chest and he can’t help the burst of butterflies in his stomach at the sight; he’s had a good number of relationships, but few have left him feeling this giddy or light. The mere sight of Evan’s bright, toothy smile is enough to make his pulse quicken and stutter in his veins.
“Hey, baby,” Evan leans in for a kiss before he even lets him in the door. Tommy indulges him, leaning across the threshold to press his lips to his in a chaste kiss that feels altogether familiar and brand new.
“I got us breakfast,” he holds up the bags in his hand as he enters the apartment, placing the items down when he reaches the table. He turns to face Evan and sees him still smiling dopily at him, one hand still holding the door and the other jammed in his hoodie pocket.
“You’re so fucking cute,” he mumbles, stepping to him and easily closing the distance in two strides before pulling him into a deeper kiss. His hands end up wound around the back of his neck, and Tommy hums as he plays with the short hairs there. They stand there like that for a while, kissing with a gentle hunger that sends waves of contentment through him. It doesn’t feel like there’s any expectation for more, no quickening pace or fiery passion to the wet glide of lips, just a longing for the other man in every single tilt of their heads or brush of their noses. He could live in this moment, this feeling, for the rest of his life.
“So anyway,” Evan pulls away abruptly when his stomach audibly grumbles, “you said something about food?”
Tommy laughs and goes about plating their sandwiches and accompanying salads, all while Evan sits at the table and watches him with his head resting lazily in his hand. Tommy just lets him, relishing in the feeling of being wanted, of being desired.
They eat fairly quickly, their legs tangled together under the table while their fingers danced together on top of it, and Tommy’s pretty sure a permanent blush has made its way to his cheeks. He knows he plays cool and suave really well, but having someone like Evan Buckley all soft and giggly over him is enough to crumble those walls right down.
After they’re done with the food and Tommy bullies Evan into letting him wash the few dishes they’d dirtied, they make their way to the couch and settle in with the next episode of the show they’ve been watching.
“I went on a Wikipedia binge last night because of this show,” Evan tells him, his head resting on his chest with his arms wrapped around his middle. Tommy hasn’t felt this secure, with Evan’s comforting weight over him, in a long time. “I was looking up stuff about selective memory erasure and artificially separated identities.”
“Hm,” Tommy absently runs his fingers up and down Evan’s spine, feeling the man melt under him. “Is that why you seem so tired?”
“Maybe,” Evan huffs a small laugh, turning his head to bury his face into Tommy’s shirt, “but I just get sucked in.”
“I know.” Tommy can’t help the fond smile that creeps its way across his face. “It’s one of your many, many endearing qualities.”
“Y’know, with most others I would think you were being sarcastic.”
“I absolutely am not,” Tommy insists, leaning his head down to plant a kiss in Evan’s hair. “I could listen to you talk about your internet deep dives all day.”
Evan doesn’t reply, but Tommy feels the way his face shifts against his chest, like he’s smiling too. Good. Tommy is finding he’ll do just about anything to keep that smile on Evan’s face for as long as he can. The soft, easy hope that he’s seen Evan exude over the last few weeks makes him so happy. He knows he’s been a huge part of it, no doubt, but also just finally being able to step into his queer identity has made him blossom into this version of himself that is uninhibited, unbridled; absolutely teeming with pure joy.
“Are you gonna tell me about your binge?” Tommy asks softly, fingers still drifting up and down his back. When he doesn’t get a response, he pauses his movement and peeks down at Evan’s face to find it slack, mouth open and eyes shut, fast asleep.
He can’t help the warmth that blossoms throughout his chest. He must have been really tired if he fell back asleep, he doesn’t usually nap as far as he knows. He tries not to listen to the little voice in his head telling him it’s just because he’s there, and he makes Buck feel comfortable and relaxed.
He leans down and once again kisses Evan’s head, this time letting the kiss linger for a moment before letting his cheek rest against his hair and resuming his gentle stroking along his back.
“That’s alright, baby,” he whispers, silently and softly switching the TV to The Office reruns so Evan doesn’t miss their show. “We can talk later.”
He tries to watch the show playing quietly on the TV in front of him, but he quickly finds himself losing a battle with consciousness. The soft ministrations of his fingers along Evan’s back gradually slow to a stop and his own eyelids drift closed as he allows himself to be enveloped in the warmth of Evan’s presence, and they don’t wake again until lunch.